


The Prince and The Frog

by GhostClimber



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:41:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24458368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostClimber/pseuds/GhostClimber
Summary: Life is hard for the Varia. Lussuria put them all on a diet and Belphegor is losing his mind.A desperate tentative to make the afternoon pass will lead him to much more than he hoped for.
Relationships: Belphegor/Flan | Fran, Superbi Squalo/Xanxus
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	The Prince and The Frog

-Life sucks.- Belphegor sighed, turning his tongue in his mouth to clean his taste buds from the awful flavour of the non-fat smoothie that Lussuria had forced him to drink as a mid afternoon snack.  
Since when life had become quieter thanks to the non-aggression politics forced by Sawada, the Varia didn't have much to do. For a while they had taken side with the Cavallone and had handled for them some relatively easy missions, until Xanxus had realised that was just a made-up by Dino to find opportunities to keep in touch with Squalo, with whom he was in love since high school, and he had made a fuss.  
So, no more unnecessary services for the Cavallone.  
No more epic battles supporting those Vongola dorks.  
Basically, a mortal boredom, and some days prior another torture had joined the situation, since Lussuria had had the dreadful idea of stepping on a scale.  
Result: ten kilograms more. Crying and moaning so loudly that Bel had heard him from the supermarket down-town, where he went to buy a bag of crisps, he had repeatedly asked himself how come he didn't notice before; any logical deduction about comfy clothes people tend to wear when there's nothing to do had been ignored and Lussuria had gotten to the tragic conclusion that he didn't notice because his ass still didn't seem bigger if compared to Levi's, so that mean he had gained weight as well.  
He had thrown a tantrum, then Xanxus had taken action and had thrown an even bigger tantrum, and after three hours of arguing that made the windows shatter they had come to the conclusion that everyone would have weighted themself to show Lussuria that he was the only one who had gained weight.  
Luckily, they hadn't bet big amounts of money, Bel thought while taking another sip of the smoothie and regretting it immediately after. But hey, he was hungry since lunch and that was more or less an edible thing, even if it had the same colour and texture of the stuff you can find in the sewer.  
The awful verdict of the scale was that all of them had gained weight. Xanxus, just for a change, had thrown another tantrum speaking of image, responsibility, reputation and shit like that and had shut up only when Squalo had proposed him to begin the new regimen by making some exercise their way. That was a good thing, from one point of view, because if nothing else they all had made it alive. Under another point of view, however, it had let Lussuria free to prepare a starving dietary scheme, approved after a while by the Boss himself with a flourishing signature. Bel vaguely asked himself what Squalo did to calm him so well, discovered he could make a pretty clear picture and forced himself to find something else to think.  
For instance, who was the first brain-damaged weirdo who thought to put in a blender some celery, an avocado and half a head of kale and then call the green rubbish “delicious smoothie”? It was a question that opened to the splendid possibility to go and look for him and kill him slowly. Bel drank another sip of the “delicious smoothie” and started to make detailed plans to make the torture last at least a week; meanwhile, he walked slowly along a corridor.  
-If you're bored, you could make some squats with me!- Lussuria trilled from the ex living room, now converted to gym; he had the wonderful idea to give a demonstration of the exercise.  
-I'm better off dead!- Bel replied, trying to erase from his mind the sight of Lussuria's ass, wrapped in a pair of skintight leggings, and of his shocking pink muscle warmers. He would have risked to barf, and he couldn't afford it: it was four in the afternoon and he had eaten no more than two pop-tarts with no jam, a tiny portion of boiled barley with not even the slightest trace of butter and that damn greenish thing. He needed all the calories he could manage to keep.  
The constant hunger drained him from all his will to live, other than making squats with Lussuria. What Bel would have wanted was an easypeasy hobby to pass the four hours that divided him from dinner, if you could call it a dinner when it was just a slice of grilled chicken and two fucking broccolis.

He would have wanted, at least, to have a partner: Squalo and Xanxus seemed quite calm, and since Lussuria had informed them that the lack of food can improve the sexual desire they had dedicated themself to the exploration of the Kamasutra. Not that they weren't aroused at any time of day, before, but at least they had tried to contain themselves; but the excuse of the hunger must have seemed very comfortable. And, anyway, Bel couldn't blame them: even walking to the kitchen to find something edible seemed a boring and impossible mission, at least they seemed to pass time having fun with sex.  
-Life sucks.- he repeated, then inclined the smoothie glass just to find out he had finished it. -Goddamn!- he howled, then his stomach performed the Dying Whale Chant. Bel looked around, and when he was sure no one was looking at him he hid behind some furniture and cleaned the glass with a finger. The hunger was starting to make that stuff seem tolerable.  
It was then, when he was trying not to cry, hidden like a teenager after having smoked his first joint, with a finger in his mouth, that he heard a hushed cry.  
Fran!  
The Varia and Mukuro's gang had been sharing the boy for years now, like divorced parents sharing the children's custody. Usually, Bel didn't give a fuck about him, he was annoying and fastidious like a handful of poison ivy in the pants, but the boredom and the hunger had tired him so much that even half an hour listening to the foolish chat of the brat seemed now like an enjoyable diversion.  
He bounced to the kitchen to put the glass in the sink while deciding what to do; the unsaid priority was always not to make Lussuria have a mental breakdown for the mess: he was already humoral in normal condition, but when he was on a diet he could became a real pain in the ass and Bel had already heard him freak out for a solid thirty minutes because Levi had had the bad idea to forget a magazine at the toilet.  
He pushed the kitchen door and his eyes nearly began to bleed: Xanxus was fucking Squalo right there on the table. Thanking his bangs which at least blocked the visual a little, he turned the other way and reached the sink while trying to become invisible.  
-VOOOIII!- Squalo roared, -Nobody taught you to knock?  
-I'm a prince, I do whatever the fuck I want!- Bel answered and turned around. Enormous error. Either Xanxus didn't even notice or the hunger had transformed him in a nymphomaniac, because he didn't seem to be willing to stop.  
-Well, get the fuck out!  
-Does it seem right to start screwing in the kitchen?!- Bel protested, -The brat's out there, what if he came in instead of me? You will block his growth!  
-VOOOIII! Since when you care about the brat?- Squalo asked, then went on in a languid tone: -Oh, yes, Xanxus, there...  
-I'm out.- Bel decided and he ran away. He slammed the door behind his back and headed to the room where he had heard Fran's crying, asking himself first why the fuck he had started a dialogue with a guy who was having sex, and then the very question Squalo had asked him: since when he cared about the brat?  
Well. Details. Probably it was all a crisis determined by the lack of calories. Maybe a low blood sugar, that's it, he was probably going to feel like shit or something like that. And then, going with the brat may be the best idea: none of the others would have allowed him to ingest some carbs, not when they were all forced to drink Lussuria's blended weird stuff. Not even if he was dying. But Fran had this ability to make eye candy so convincing that even Xanxus had given in once or twice.  
Bel stopped in front of the room from which the cry was coming. In a moment of lucidity he asked himself if this wasn't all an illusion to mess with him: the brat was so good that even Mammon had nothing to teach him any more, and to keep him busy he invented useless exercises and justified them with some weird speech probably inspired by Reborn's mental trips.  
-Who wants to perform some leg-abdomen-gluteus with meee?- Lussuria trilled from the living room, and Bel decided. Anything, whatever, even a dental operation with no anaesthesia, but not a session of leg-abdomen-gluteus with that guy.  
A sudden bustle revealed that Fran had noticed the intrusion: -Where is it? Where is it?- he murmured in a broken voice, looking around desperately, all bent up over himself in a position that Squalo probably held for other reasons.  
-Where's what, brat?- Bel asked, touching his butt with the tip of his toe. Fran shook and turned around, falling to a sitting position. He got back, terrorized, pushing himself with his feet and using his arms as a shield in front of his face.  
-My hat! I'm sorry, I know you want me to keep it up always, I just took it off for a minute and now...  
-Hey, what's the matter with you?- Bel asked, kneeling in front of him. Fran lowered his arms a bit and looked at him with a puzzled expression.  
-I've been here for almost a minute now, and still you haven't cracked any joke. That's not you!- Bel protruded a hand and hit Fran's shoulder lightly; the other fell and Bel started to worry for real: -Oi!- he called, crawling forward.  
-I don't want you to kill me...- Fran cheeped, rolling himself up, -Mammon already will want to, tonight, everyone's always angry at me and I'm tired!  
-I'm too hungry to be angry with you- Bel admitted, then he pulled over a hand to help Fran to get up. The boy asked: -Where's the trick?  
-No trick. Come on, don't nag and stand up.- the touch of Fran's hand was delicate and strangely enjoyable, warm without being sweaty and gentle without being weak. Bel had just the time to think that that the contact ended. Fran sat with crossed legs and dried a tear from his cheek, in vain: another one took its place at once.  
-So, come on. Why would Mammon want to kill you tonight?- Bel asked. Fran took a trembling breath and answered: -Because he said I have to make some braids to exercise the peace of mind.- he pointed towards a bunch of silken ribbons with a nod of his head and a resentful expression.  
-So what?  
-So I have no idea how to make braids.- Fran's lower lip protruded, trembled, then the boy started to cry hopelessly.  
-Oh.- Bel said, torn. On one hand, all that weeping was getting on his nerves. On the other, that brat was almost tender.  
Very unusual. Still the lack of food? Probably. Bel shrugged. If he had come out of that room, he would have been recruited for that gym session with Lussuria, but if Fran had continued crying all of his nerves would have snapped, one after the other.  
-Come on, no need to cry...- he tried to console him, then he pulled his sleeve on his hand and used it to clean his cheeks, -I'll teach you how to make braids, it's okay?  
-Really?- Fran asked, then he sniffed loudly.  
-Really. But if you sniff like that once again, I'll use them to choke you. Come on, you're not a kid anymore! How old are you, sixteen?  
-Eighteen!- Fran answered, straightening his back, -And at home, in France, I would already be of age!  
-Mh, yeah, kiddo, we're in Italy and it's just the same. It's when you're with Mukuro that you still have two years. Anyway, that's even worse, at eighteen only coke addicts sniff that way!  
-I feel so alone.- Fran answered, like it made any sense.  
-Come on, now we're making braids together.- Bel said.  
-Did you actually said that?- Fran asked, raising an eyebrow.  
-I think so...- Bel answered, another time grateful to his bangs that were hiding his own frown. He cut it out: -Well, let's go. Take three ribbons for you and three for me.- with an unusual patience, all busy trying to understand what the fuck was happening, Bel showed Fran how to make a braid; the boy proved himself to be a terrible scholar.  
At the fourth try, seeing that Fran's eyes were once again getting wet by tears, Bel jumped at his back saying: -Ok, don't panic, I have another idea!  
-Argh! You want to kill me from behind!- Fran yelled and threw himself back. Bel held him in his arms to block him and fell with his back against the floor, still with Fran over his chest. He lowered an arm to keep him still with better force and the illusionist burst into laughter.  
-Nooo, please, not tickle!- he muttered.  
-Ushishishishi.- that was the only sound Bel made before giving start to a massive assault of tickle. After all, he said to himself while Fran squirmed laughing in his arms, Varia Quality comes before anything else; even the Chinese torture has to be taken seriously and with the maximum commitment, to avoid to be lacking the reputation that... that... what the hell was Fran doing, cuddling up in his arms?  
And what was he doing with his own? He seemed to be putting it around Bel's neck, and he was doing nothing to avoid it.  
-It was fun.- Fran whispered, hiding his head in the cradle of Bel's shoulder; he, once again, let him do it. He couldn't even avoid to smile widely when he felt his lips curve against the exposed flesh of his collarbone.  
-Come on, let's do those braids, what do you say?- he proposed, just to get him off himself. Fran nodded and slid between Bel's legs; the prince pulled him against his chest and arranged himself behind him, his legs holding his sides. He took his hands and directed them in the right movements to arrange the silken ribbons in a braid; he had attached them to the back of a sofa using one of his knives.  
-Oh, I think I got it now!- Fran cheered. He seemed to be in seventh heaven and for a while Bel allowed himself to be happy for him. It was strange, ridiculous, he felt his head light and at the same time he felt rooted to the ground, there, holding with his legs the body of that green haired brat.  
-Alright, so try by yourself.- he said, then he took another three ribbons. He tied them up at one end then foxed the knot to the sofa.  
-You're staying there? If I'm not able you'll help me?  
-Alright, then.- Bel arranged himself instinctively with his head on Fran's shoulder and circled his waist with his arms. He went along his nervous tightening and stood still until the other relaxed. He looked at Fran's fingers weaving the ribbons and suddenly realized he had gone too far, but couldn't move. It was nice, after all, to leave behind his bloody prince's mask and sometimes hug someone. He felt under the back of his hand that Fran's thighs were slowly getting relaxed and realized after a while that the boy was trusting him. From that position, Bel could have done anything: break his neck, hit his stomach, bite him to death like that sadistic idiot of the Vongolas, even put his hands in his pants and rape him.  
But Fran trusted him, so Bel didn't do anything. He just stood there, watching him braid triplets of ribbons one after the other, cautiously handing his knife to fix the next project to the sofa: he stood still, feeling his breath, the sweet lullaby he was singing to himself and the light flexing of his muscles beneath his skin.  
-Bel senpai, uhm... Can I... Can I ask you a question?  
-You just did.  
-Oh.  
-You can ask another, if you want.  
-Why are you doing this?- Bel thought, then decided to gloss it over with elegance: -Doing what?  
-This. I mean, you help me, you play with me, you hug me...- Fran's finger trembled a little, making a knot at one end of a braid.  
-No idea.- Bel admitted, and the silence grew. Suddenly oppressed, he added: -I came in because I was hungry and bored. I thought I could make a fuss. Then I don't know what happened, but for now I feel good here.  
-I feel good, too. I like you hugging me.- Fran confessed, then began the next braid.  
-How many left?- Bel asked.  
-That's the last one.- Fran answered, then went on braiding. That strange afternoon was going to end soon and the thing gave Bel mixed feelings. He tried to repeat himself that it was a good thing, that once he was out of that room he could archive that episode in a folder called “Strange stuff that hunger makes you do”, but he had the strange, terrible suspect that he would have also missed those few hours spent watching Fran making mountains of braids. He tried to cancel every thought and kept watching his fingers tiding a knot with particular cure, then Fran moved in his arms and turned towards him with the braid in one hand.  
-Well...- Bel said, -So...  
-This one's for you.- said Fran, and shyly handed him the braid. His cheeks were slightly reddened, -I made this one for you.  
-Oh... what?- Bel lowered his eyes.  
-It's green and yellow. Like our hair.- Fran explained, -So you can remember this afternoon. I liked it. Did you?  
-Yeah, but don't tell anyone.- Bel muttered. He forced himself not to shiver while Fran's fingers tied the braid around his wrist like a bracelet, but he couldn't help but jump when he kissed him. -What the fuck!  
-Sorry. It's just that... it's not true that I don't like you, Bel senpai.  
-I... I mean... can't be, fuck!- Bel shouted, then he kissed Fran.

An hour later, while they were all around the table, consuming a depressing dietetic dinner, Squalo said: -VOOOIII! What's that bracelet, Bel, did your boyfriend made it?  
-Yeah, so what?- Bel replied, and for once Squalo seemed to be short with words. -Well, if that's all I think I'll go fuck myself somewhere else.- Bel added, standing up. It had taken him less then five minutes to eat the sad dinner, and while he was heading to his room he vaguely thought he would have to learn to eat slowly. That way, maybe, he could trick himself into thinking he had eaten more.  
He closed the door behind his back, then he turned around and jumped. On his bed there was Fran, dressed in an adorable pyjamas decorated with little frogs. With red roses on his cheeks, the illusionist asked: -Cuddles?  
-Oh... well, fuck it.- Bel shrugged and laid upon him. He closed his eyes before kissing Fran, but his lips hit something harder and rougher than his mouth; Bel opened his eyes, startled. When he saw what Fran was holding beneath his teeth he giggled: -Ushishishi...  
-Apple biscuits for my “boyfriend”.- Fran whispered, taking the biscuit out of his mouth and handing it to him. Bel took a bite but didn't lean back; Fran took the rest and slowly ate it, then he leaned his face and obtained a kiss.  
Soon after it was clear that none of them had any intention to stop. The sweet kisses exchanged that afternoon had only been a prelude to what would have followed that very evening, and soon Bel felt his blood boiling hot. He lifted Fran's shirt and he made way under his pants; he grabbed a cheek, rapacious.  
Fran jumped and Bel abruptly came back to reality: he was taken advantage of that tender, sweet boy, and if he didn't stop right after he would have gotten to the point of no turning back. He already felt the desire to sink into him, and soon this would become an unstoppable need. But... -Hey, what's up?- Fran asked. Bel had frozen, his lips still on the other. -I... listen, brat, it's better if you go away now.  
-Not gonna do it!- Fran replied. Bel sat, putting a little bit of distance between them, and brushed his face with his hands: -I mean, really...  
-What's that, you don't want to?  
-Ushishi. Brat, you don't know.  
-Stop calling me “brat”! I do have a name, you know?- Bel huffed.  
-Ok. Fran. You better get the fuck out, because if we go on I don't think I can stop, ok?  
-Did I ask you to?  
-You don't know what you're talking about.  
-Just because I never did that, it doesn't mean I don't know what it is or how it works.- Fran said, crossing his arms on his chest, -What's that, you think I'm stupid?  
-I...- Bel fell silent. The honest answer would have been a yes, but maybe Fran wasn't so naive like he wanted the others to believe. In fact, the illusionist murmured: -Yeah. It's that... when I'm scared I... it's like I'm going back. It helps me to cradle in a childish world.- he puffed a bitter laughter, -The problem is that I'm almost always scared. I'm scared of Mammon, I'm scared of Mukuro... don't get me started about Xanxus, huh? And I'm scared of you.- Bel couldn't find any word to reply. He knew his jokes used to surpass the unwritten limit between playing and scaring, but he thought it was clear that in the end he didn't mean any harm.  
-I'm not afraid now, anyway.- Fran added, in a more firm tone. He leaned forward, pulling himself with his hands, and his face reached Bel's, along with the soft brushing of his chest against his; soft, of course, but it burned like fire. Bel felt Fran's lips perch on his, and his groin pressing against his pelvis; it was clear, however strange and crazy it could seem, that Fran longed for him him.  
Bel let the other tower him, he let Fran's hands explore him; they were clumsy and lumbering, but surely curious. He heard his trousers' zipper being lowered. He seemed to experiment a state of amplified conscience, and he let it drown him almost with gratitude.  
Fran's hand touched his manhood and Bel whispered against his lips: -If you stop now, I'll slice you, you know?  
-I'll take the risk.- Fran's lips moved to Bel's neck and left there a wet strain of kisses, while his open hand still tortured him without surpassing the limit of his underpants. With trembling fingers, Bel pushed down the rubber band, freeing his erection that instantly touched the palm of Bel's hand; the illusionist jumped and leaned back. Bel muttered a puff of frustration, then Fran's trembling fingers perched back on his skin and shyly explored his erection; his lips left Bel's with a subdued pop. From under his bangs, Bel saw that Fran was looking down.  
-It's... the first time I touch one that isn't mine... it's strange.- Bel stood still for a few seconds, looking for an excuse to justify the sudden wave of tenderness he was feeling. He decided to blame the half biscuit he had eaten, then encircled Fran's hand and drove his movements; the illusionist let him do, then little by little he began to take action. His acts were sweet, languishing and oh so sensual. Bel laid on his back, his head dangling from the edge of the bed, and let himself being carried away from the sensation; Fran raised his shirt and started to kiss his chest, and Bel let him. He felt the orgasm coming from his lower belly while Fran's teeth closed on his nipple in a sweet, painless bite; he ejaculated, and it seemed to him he was coming twice when he focused the sensation of Fran's hand still touching him, now wetted from his sperm. He couldn't hold in a moan, which was promptly hidden my a kiss.  
Bel accommodated better on the bed, with Fran holding him from aside, and stood still to gain back some breath. It was just a hand job, not even the first he got from someone else, and neither one could say that Fran was an expert, and yet it seemed to him he had died and came back alive. It had been devastating, so devastating he didn't think he had the strength to get up and look for something to clean up with. After a brief, tormented stream of thoughts, he decided that it was all because of the lack of food; he pushed the biscuit and the sugar it contained in a small, dark corner of his mind.  
Then, Fran's sweet weight moved from his side: -He, where are you going?  
-Looking for a handkerchief.- the other answered, shyly showing his hand, still covered in sperm. Bel blushed, remembering that Fran still hadn't come, but he managed to keep a serious face: -What's that, you think you're done?  
-Well, I...- Fran seemed confused. He looked at his own hand, then at Bel's manhood, softly perched between the two wings of his trousers. Bel reached out towards Fran's crotch, but stopped at the last second: -Or maybe you don't want to?  
-Oh, I do!- Fran said, laying down again. Bel forced himself to be delicate: he had always preferred fast, violent acts, but now it seemed to him it was right to go slowly.  
He pulled down Fran's pants and underwear, showing a towering and quite big erection; suddenly, he was caught by the fact that Fran was not a naive little boy. Childish in his manners, shy and almost bucolic in his spontaneity, he was also a young man who knew what he wanted. While he caressed his glans with the tip of his finger, he felt grateful that Fran didn't quite understand his enormous powers: with his tenderness and his hidden strength he could set the whole world on fire. After all, he was the one who was able to control the Hell Ring. Bel found himself masturbating him with care, almost with fear; for the first time he realized that he was sharing his bed with the most powerful illusionist he knew and he figured out his own vulnerability. He had the instinct to get back, to let everything go and fight back, but Fran's heavy breath, his eyelashes trembling as a crown to his closed eyelids, his puffy red lips forced him to stay put, everything suggested he had to finish what he had begun. He asked himself if he hadn't been tricked by some illusion, but he decided he didn't give a damn: he only wanted Fran to come, to see his face change in the orgasm, to feel his manhood shrink in his hand, his sperm cover his fingers. He was satisfied short after: with a deaf murmur, Fran arched his back then exhaled in one breath. His testicles trembled against the side of Bel's hand, and immediately he felt the warm, slimy touch of Fran's sperm. He kept masturbating him until it wasn't Fran himself who pushed him away, with an urgent push, laughing like a little boy who has seen a friend making something funny.  
They stood there, lying side by side, breathing each other, sometimes kissing, then Fran suddenly said: -Oh, right.  
-“Oh, right” what?- Bel asked. Fran moved a finger in the air and produced a box of tissues: -I forgot I can make illusions.  
-Well, that's convenient.  
-Yeah. Also because I just can't get up.- Fran took a tissue, but Bel grabbed it: -Leave it to me.- he said, then he cleaned him up, thoughtful.  
Fran wasn't creating in him the illusion of being... that thing... towards him, so hunger or not, biscuit or not, Bel was in the condition of having to admit that maybe, after all, and maybe not after that much, he liked that boy. He fixed his pants, then took another tissue and cleaned himself too; he looked at Fran, half asleep with his hair on Bel's pillow, laying on one side and towards him, he took his right hand and cleaned that one too.  
He managed to lie down in what was left of the bed, then he switched position again and again, until he realized that his trousers were making him uncomfortable. He took them off, trying not to make a noise, but Fran woke up and asked: -What you're doing?  
-Can't sleep with trousers on.- he rapidly explained. Ad a matter of fact, undressing on the sly could easily be mistaken with the intention to escalate to sexual jokes; after all, Fran wasn't reading Bel's mind, and until a few hours before their relationship was very different.  
-I have one last thing for you, before you sleep.- Fran muttered, then said: -Bedside table.- Bel turned around. On his bedside table there was a plate filled with apple biscuits. He bit onto one of them and tasted it, while Fran's breath became slow and regular: he had fallen asleep.  
Bel reached out, he moved a lock of his hair behind his ear so that it wouldn't tickle him during his sleep, then said: -I love you, Frog.- and covered him.  
He laid on his side and turned off the light.  
He never saw Fran's lips curving in a happy smile.


End file.
